Lies About Lies About Truth
by escargoat
Summary: Alec Trevelyan survives the end of Goldeneye to discover things may not be what he thought they were. Crossover with XMen. WIP slash chapters 4 UP
1. Default Chapter

Lets start with the disclaimer first. I don't own, I'm not making any profit etc, etc. Ian Fleming, his estate, Marvel Comics, 20th Century Fox, etc own all of the Characters used herein.

This story starts out a few weeks after GoldenEye ends. It also starts sometime after X-2 ends. Obviously both are alternate universe. You will notice that many of the mutant characters I'm using have not actually been introduced into the X-Men films yet, but they all are actual characters from the comics. (Confused yet?) Oh, Jean Grey will be popping up later in the story, so if you haven't read the comics or seen the original X-men cartoon and don't want to get spoiled for the next X-Men movie (X3), then don't continue reading.

ONE MORE THING, this might contain some light slash type themes later on, if this isn't your cup of tea, then don't keep going.

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It was with a burst of pain that Alec Trevelyan was brought back to the world of men. The last thing he remembered was falling a rather far distance after a fight with James. By all rights he should be dead. 

"Oh, but you were dead," an aloof, feminine voice purred into his right ear.

Alec's eyes darted to the side seconds before his body tried to turn towards the speaker. His eyes moved, as did his head, but his body violently objected when straps jerked him back down to bed that he was tied to. He only caught the slightest glimpse of what appeared to white leather out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm not the one who goes in for all the pretty women and their sexual experiences."

An exasperated sigh came from the woman's lips, "Why do spies always seem to think they have an engaging sense of humor? Never mind, I don't really need to know."

"Perhaps then, you'd like to answer some of my questions?" Alec asked boldly.

A cynical laugh answered him, "You haven't changes much have you Trevelyan? You die trying to take over the world not a few short days ago, and you're strapped down to my bed very much alive, but you want to know who I am."

"It seemed like a good place to start. If I know your name, it is so much easier to ask why and how I am now alive."

"You have a good point. I suppose you want to also know what I look like."

"Well, it would be good for me, although not necessarily good for you," Alec replied.

"Oh, that doesn't concern me all that much," the woman shifted to speak to another person in the room, "You, untie his hands, but leave his feet bound. You," she spoke to another guard, "make sure you keep your gun on him at all times."

Alec soon felt the bindings on his wrists give way and was able to sit up to see his feet each separately tied to the footboard of an expensive, wooden bed. His line of sight traveled from his feet up to a busty, platinum haired woman standing at the end of the bed.

"You really don't recognize me do you?" She smiled haughtily.

"No, but the term 'Ice Queen' does come to mind."

"Actually, that would be White Queen, but you might recall me better as Emma Frost. I have a cousin who works in MI6."

"How enlightening, tell me, what does that have to do with me?"

Emma smiled. "Nothing at the moment."

Annoyance started to creep across Alec's mind, "I don't like to play games. What do you want with me?"

"Oh very well, you see about ten years ago, you were on a little job investigating an exclusive club. Do you remember it?"

Alec's brow furrowed, "Yes, the Hellfire club or some such name. I didn't find much beyond normal politics and an odd fascination with the mystical arts and scientific research."

"Actually, you found out a great deal more than that. Of course, you wouldn't remember finding anything after I was through with you. Your mind is a very terrifying place, did you know that?"

Alec stared at her. "What do you mean 'After you were through with me'?"

"I thought you were supposed to be the best and the brightest. My dear, Mr. Trevelyan, you were captured when you tried to infiltrate our club. The entire experience that you reported back to MI6 was total fabrication. In fact, your entire life from that point on has been an entire fabrication. Did you really think that it was poor old you sitting around brooding that caused you to pick up and leave? Did you truly think that it was you who came up with the grand scheme for GoldenEye?"

Flashes of deeply hidden memories flashed through Alec's mind before drifting away again. His eyes flashed briefly in terror before he reigned himself back in to glare at his captor.

"That is impossible. You couldn't have possibly…"

"Possibly have broken through your shields Alec? Oh, but I did, and you became an incredibly useful puppet. And had that Bond fellow not interfered, I would be a very wealthy woman right now. Well, wealthier than I am already that is."

"But how did you…"

Emma's hand went up cutting Alec's sentence off again, "Don't interrupt! However, seems how you asked, I won't say that breaking through your shields was easy, but you have weaknesses like any other. Even if you were trained by the best, you're still only an empath, not a telepath. You should be glad that you are anything at all. If you weren't a mutant, I would never have bothered to revive you."

"You'll understand if I don't thank you," Alec snipped back.

Emma's cold smile grew larger, "You don't like being a mutant do you? It makes you feel inadequate, like you really aren't as good as you think you are."

Alec's eyes scrunched shut, "Get out of my head."

Emma withdrew. "It doesn't really matter you know. Half of the things in there are there because of me, and I already know most of your deep and dirty secrets. How you started having strange headaches the same day you turned fourteen. How your British caretakers took you to every doctor they could to find out what was wrong with you. How nobody knew what was wrong because being a mutant was such a strange concept back then. How when you turned sixteen they took you to a renowned psychologist by the name of Charles Xavier."

Alec flinched.

Emma droned on, "Ah, Professor X, is that what they call him? He knew what was wrong with you. He taught you how to block out the people around you and all of their emotions that kept hammering at your sanity. He would have taught you more. How to use the other facets of your powers, but you foolishly said no. You could have been a member of his 'X-men' but you wanted to go 'home.' So, he shipped you back to the British government with some nonsense about it being repressed childhood memories and how you were all better now."

Emma laughed callously at her humorless joke. "Do you realize how easy you were to fool once I broke through your shields? The best lies are the ones based in twisted truths you know. I turned you against MI6 with all of those details I gained from your childhood. I turned you against them because of that lie Xavier told them. The hardest part was convincing you not to trust Bond, but I did. And I must say that you did marvelous work for me."

Alec turned angry eyes at her, "I don't believe you."

"Oh, but you do, if you didn't you wouldn't be angry with me. Not that you will remember this conversation when I'm done anyway."

Alec frowned, "Fine but why bring me back? And how did you bring me back?"

"I brought you back because you are very useful. Between your training as an agent and your mutant powers, I can get some very good work out of you. And the how is a bit more complicated. You see, mutants have a tendency to heal faster than any normal human. Their metabolisms are faster, as I'm sure you have no doubt noticed over the years. You, on the other hand, had sustained quite a bit of damage when I retrieved your body, so I injected you with this."

Emma swiped a small bottle off of a table near Alec's bedside, "This is a mutagenic compound. It was originally developed to see if normal humans could be mutated, but it didn't work too well. On mutants, however, it has a very interesting effect. It increases their mutations sometimes exponentially. It isn't used very often, because it is quite painful and often leads to insanity and death and sometimes power burnout.  Naturally, I was not concerned with any of those in your case."

Alec shook his head, "But my powers have nothing to do with healing."

"True, I did have to put you on some very expensive equipment to keep your body functioning, but once the serum started working, your body started taking care of those problems."

Alec's eyes turned hard as he mustered his strength, "I'm not going to help you," he said in an even voice.

"You couldn't stop me before, what makes you think you can stop me now?" Emma sneered.

At that moment, the door crashed in and a strange man with claws sprouting from his hands stood snarling at Emma, "How 'bout me, princess?"

Emma glared at the newcomer, "That is White Queen to you."

The man looked over Emma appraisingly, "Really? Who's your surgeon?"

The two guards in the room chose that moment to attack the stranger. 

They did not last long, but they did last long enough for Emma to leave by another exit.

Alec watched fascinated as the other man snarled in frustration.

"Don't let me stop you. I'm a bit tied up at the moment anyway," Alec punned.

"No can do, Bub. I promised someone I'd get you outta here," with a growl, the other man sliced through the remaining bonds on Alec's feet.

"Move it, I ain't gonna wait around for more trouble to show up."

With that, the shorter man stalked back out the way he had come in. Supposing that it was the lesser of two evils, Alec followed him.


	2. 2

First chapter = disclaimers

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Alec stared miserably out the window. The weather in Westchester was dreary and raining – a perfect match to his mood. Idly, he fingered the hem of the shirt he had been given when he had arrived at the mansion from whatever godforsaken place he had been held at.

The trip back had been unremarkable except for the fact that he had learned his rescuer's name was Logan. Not that the hairy man had introduced himself. The pilot, Scott, had gotten into a macho tiff with the gruff man and had called him 'Logan.'

Between the fact that he had been rather efficient at removing the guards and the fact that Scott did not particularly care for him, Alec was forming a very high opinion of Logan.

Not, of course, that his dislike of Scott had anything to do with actually knowing him personally. He only "knew" him through his correspondence with the recently deceased Jean Grey.

When Alec had spent his short time with the professor, Jean was just a telepathic student learning how to control her powers. He had become friends with the red haired girl in their mutual struggle to keep the outside world where it belonged. Outside.

As a result, he had indulged in his teenage woes about his fellow classmate in England. Jean had listened for hours on end while Alec expounded on every subject that could possibly relate to James. It had been a good thing to do, as he had never needed to ramble on about the subject to anyone else.

In turn, Jean had shared her exuberance when she fell in love with Scott. Alec knew just about everything that Jean knew about Scott, or at least the parts about him that he'd known before he faked his own death. While he had been supportive of Jean's romance, he had privately put Scott into a little box with the stuffed suits of MI6. A box entitled "People you don't like, but have to stay friends with, so you annoy them."

A sad smile twitched at Alec's lips. Jean had been a good friend. He supposed that was why he had picked Xenia when she had come into his organization. Her attitude was completely different, but her face could have doubled for Jean's.

Not that it mattered anymore. His sources had informed him of Jean's death just before he had had his final run in with James.

Alec sighed and went to staring back out the window. He was not sure what he wanted to think about. It, in fact, went against every instinct to think about anything. Agents just conveniently shoved every unwelcome thought into the back of their head somewhere and forgot about them. But, Alec did not have the luxury of doing that.

He had messed up his entire life, and he had not even had the fun of doing it himself. He had apparently been brainwashed by a buxom woman with questionable taste in clothing. The worst part was that he knew exactly how she had gotten in. Contrary to popular thought, a telepath was not all powerful. When one goes into someone's mind, the owner of that mind has just as much control, if not more, than the invading telepath. For the invader to do the damage that had been done to Alec's mind, she had to find a point of entry, otherwise his mind would have simply fragmented and made him a useless vegetable.

And of course, he knew exactly what that point was. It was not the feelings he had developed towards James. Alec had spent years recognizing and accepting those and dealing with the consequences of them.

It was the fact, that for one moment in time, Alec had seen those feeling reciprocated.

He could still smell the rankness of his clothing as he had wakened to find himself cradled In James's arms. The other man had a death grip on Alec's body. As Alec had turned his face upwards, he could see a vacant stare in James' eyes.

He could still remember the wild hope that had sprung to James' face when the dark haired man had realized that Alec was moving.

Alec had been about to make a properly acerbic quip when James had interrupted him with a tortured voice, "I thought you were dead."

What happened after that was still a bit of a blur in Alec's mind. He could not recall who exactly moved first, but what he was sure about was that there was quite a bit of physical activity involved, and that while James' women always got the plush and exotic hotels, Alec was treated to the hayloft of an abandoned barn.

Alec had awakened first the next morning, and he did not wake happily. He knew what the day would bring. He had seen James dump hundreds of women, but he new that there would not be a clean break for them. James held a very high amount of control over his emotions, and Alec had seen the tumult that was behind James' shields.

He also knew that James Bond by his very definition would not and could not have a relationship with a man, especially not one who he happened to work with on a semi-regular basis.

So, Alec had made the first move. He spared himself having to listen to James give a modified version of his "We're over," speech. Alec simply dove right in the instant James had woken up. He told him about how they would just forget about what happened. Their very lives were mired in secrets, what was one more? And so forth and so on. He did not remember exactly how long he rambled on for, but he knew that the only words that James said were a plain, "Alright, Alec."

They had never spoken about it again, and it had haunted Alec until the day that he had gotten caught while infiltrating the Hellfire Club.

"You have an unhealthy penchant for blaming yourself," Charles Xavier's voice cut into Alec's morose remembrances.

Alec turned from the window to look at the professor, "Were you poking around in my head, or was I broadcasting?"

"Neither, actually, I've just had too many students who have perfected that particular facial expression. It wasn't your fault, Alec."

"Oh, but it was. You know, people always try to tell you that it wasn't your fault. But in someway it always is."

Charles shook his head, "That isn't true, and you know it. Perhaps we open doors to something bad happening, but is it the housewife's fault that she got robbed because she left the door unlocked? Isn't it truly the burglar's fault because he went in there with the purpose of stealing?"

Alec dismissed him with a wave of his hand, "It isn't the same thing."

Charles did not respond, and they sat in silence. Alec sat uncomfortably while Charles merely waited for him to make the next move.

"How did you know where to find me? And for that matter, why did you come to get me?" Alec finally asked in order to break the silence.

"It is very simply actually. When they revived you, your power signature spiked dramatically. I could feel your pain and confusion, and I sent a team to rescue you."

"That's very noble of you," Alec said bitterly.

"Really?" Charles asked calmly.

"Maybe I'm just not worth salvaging, why don't you spend your time rescuing some poor, abused mutant that needs you?"

Charles shifted his head slightly, "I thought that was what I was doing."

Alec's gaze snapped back furiously to glare at Xavier for a second before he began to chuckle, "Professor, I think you have been around your teenage students too much. I don't recall flippancy as part of your normal counseling technique."

Charles laughed quietly himself, "Perhaps not, but it worked didn't it? You have always been a challenge Alec."

"I wish I would have been more of one to the ice queen in the white leather. Why did she run away? Your Mr. Logan is intimidating enough, but she took off too quickly," Alec mused.

Charles sighed and leaned back into his chair, "I must admit I have been pondering that question myself. The only logical solution is that she had something more valuable to keep from us than you."

"Now there is an encouraging thought," Alec grumbled.

Charles merely smiled, "It isn't your problem to deal with right now. "

"I know, I know. I need to go on my bonny road to recovery."

Charles shook his head, "Actually, you are on the road to a physical examination. I think we need to know exactly what they did to you."


	3. 3

First chapter = disclaimers

A/N I do apologize for the shortness of  this and the preceding chapter, hopefully, things will move more quickly once I get the basic plot set up. Hopefully….

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Alec shivered as he watched the small needle be pulled out of his arm. The doctor was friendly enough, but the fact that the blood he was drawing was going to be used for experiments was not a comforting thought. Even if the tests were for his own good, Alec could not bring himself to think kindly about them. He had always detested being odd. He had always striven to be good without touching his mutant capabilities, and now here he was: needing to be tested because something was wrong with them.

"You may go now. I'll call the professor when I have some results," the gentle voiced doctor said.

Alec did not need to be told twice. With quick movements, he dressed and made his way out of the infirmary. Charles was waiting outside.

"Making sure I don't leave?" Alec quipped as he shortened his stride to match Xavier's wheelchair.

"Where would you go, Alec?" Charles asked redundantly.

"I suppose you have a point. I pretty much destroyed the only other place in this world I ever belonged."

"You didn't destroy it," Charles corrected him.

"In a way I did. If I had been more alert, if I had kept up with my studies and discipline, I would never have been brainwashed. But that isn't the point, now is it? I can't very well go back in time and change it."

"Actually, I know a mutant that can go back in time," Charles said with a slight quirk on his lips.

"Do you now? Pity that I'm too thick headed to listen to even myself."

"A common malady among humans and mutants alike, I assure you."

Alec chuckled slightly. "True enough. I don't suppose that you have anything good in your kitchen?"

Charles ignored the abrupt change of topic and responded easily, "I have many different teenagers living under my roof, while they may deplete the stock in the kitchen rapidly, I am certain you could find something to your liking."

"You know I could have shot you ten times in the time it took you to say that sentence."

"That is why you are who you are," Charles said cryptically.

Alec merely sighed in response and walked off towards the kitchen.

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When he arrived in the kitchen, they found it already occupied by Scott and Logan.

Scott had apparently been having a tense moment with the other man and quickly turned his attention to the new comers.

"I'm glad that you are feeling better," he offered towards Alec.

"Yes, thank you," Alec nodded politely.

An awkward silence descended. It was punctuated only by the sound of Logan sipping his beer and Scott munching on whatever health food snack he had found.

"I don't suppose that there is anything good to eat?" Alec surprised himself by trying to make conversation.

Scott wordlessly offered his soy chips. Off of Alec's look, Logan grunted in amusement and opened a cupboard to reveal a plethora of high calorie snack foods.

"One eye doesn't seem to understand the benefits of having our fancy mutant metabolisms," he explained.

"Just because you can burn off the calories doesn't mean that the other ingredients can't be harmful," the offended party rebutted.

Logan rolled his eyes and grabbed a bag of potato chips to go with his beer.

"I take it you two aren't friends then?" Alec said with a slightly amused voice.

"You a telepath or somethin'?" Logan said with a sarcastic smirk.

"Actually, no. I just have the observational skills of a blind man who is half deaf."

Scott smiled slightly at the remark. "Jean always spoke highly of your skills."

Alec's smile faded. "I'm sorry to hear of her death."

"She would have been pleased to see you," Scott answered without really saying anything.

Alec nibbled quietly on his snack.

Logan grinned. "You're a spook."

"What?"

"You're all quiet and stealthy. Only people I know like that are spooks. Cyke over there couldn't walk down a carpeted hall without making a racket. You're trying to eat pretzels without making noise."

"Logan, leave him alone," Scott reprimanded.

Alec sighed in irritation. As much as he wanted to be left alone at the moment, he did not need to be defended either.

"Just tryin' to make nice with the new kid, don't get yer grundies in a bundle," Logan shot back.

"I was a spy. I'm not really much of anything anymore."

"Ah, don't let it get you down, Bub. Me? I ain't got nowhere to call home, but these nice people let me stay here. They aren't half bad once you get used to Summers over there."

"I'll try to remember that," Alec replied.

"Alec," Charles' voice interrupted them.

"Yes?" he responded.

"I have some of your test results back," Charles spoke from the entry way to the kitchen.

Alec moved towards Charles grateful that the Professor had not used his telepathy to call him. He was not sure if he was ready to have another person in so close of contact with his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

First Chapter Disclaimers.

Yes, yes I know. Way too long without an update. And it is much too short.

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Hesitantly, James picked up the folder that lay open before him. The first time he had looked at it, he had dropped it back down on the table in shock. It could not be. It simply could not. Xenia had died. It was as simple as that. But a few months ago there had been some curious activity in the Atlantic Ocean of all places.

There had been nothing concrete enough that had warranted taking a closer look, but intelligence had kept a somewhat wary eye on the luxury boat out in the middle of the ocean for no apparent reason beyond some rich woman's pleasure trip.

It was when the ship had come into port that the picture had been taken. Xenia, or a woman that looked a hell of a lot like her, was being escorted off of the boat by the very wealthy and very influential Emma Frost.

In disgust, James tossed the file back on the table. All of this was meaningless paperwork. It was something he was given to do while recuperating from his latest mission. He was not any good at it, and M knew it. And even if that was Xenia, there was nothing he could do about it except put the file in a stack of situations that needed further investigation. After all, she had only been a bit player in a much grander scheme. One didn't go hunting down the hired thugs, one hunted to masterminds.

And that, James reflected, was the problem. Seeing this red headed variant of Xenia had brought back all the memories of Alec. The smiling face, the nights drinking in companionship, the nights hunting him down, the day he killed him and that one night when Alec had been more than just friend.

James' eyes closed for a second and he could remember the soft skin and hard muscle. He could remember the salty taste of Alec's kiss and the burst of sweetness that had mingled with that salt.

"Damn," he swore to himself as he glared at the not so menacing paperwork. How could a dead man still play such games with him?

James laughed mirthlessly. Perhaps he was finally going insane. Lord knew that he had been accused of it often enough. He was, after all, the top agent for destroying property. But he was also the top agent for getting results on any mission. At least he was the top agent after Alec defected.

There had always been a debate when the two of them had reached double O status. Who was better? Alec had won his status first, but just barely. Those who had debated the topic had decided that James must have been the better spy. After all, hadn't he succeeded in killing Alec?

Still, there was a part of James that wondered if Alec had let him win. It was a ridiculous thought. After all, the man had tried to kill James. Why would a defector die to save his enemy?

James sighed. That was a question he would never have an answer to, if one even assumed that it was a question at all. Life would be so much simpler if he could do what all the others did and put Alec neatly into the villain category.

But it was not that simple because life never is. And Alec never was.

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